


One Bug to Rule Them All

by Sweetie_Curfy



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fatherly Geoff, Fatherly Ryan, Sickfic, fatherly jack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-02-10 15:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2030880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetie_Curfy/pseuds/Sweetie_Curfy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gavin woke up at two-thirty, he not only felt like someone had smothered him to death, but he also came to the realization that his stomach was in knots as he ran to the bathroom. When Michael woke up at eight, he had a pounding headache and a large suspicion that something new was going around. When Ray woke up at quarter to nine, he felt terrible enough to forget to call in sick.</p><p>Geoff, Ryan and Jack realize their pain and will stop at nothing to get it to cease.</p><p>Or, the one where the Lads are sick and the Gents take care of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Gent's Call to Help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Office 636 hype!!!!

When Geoff went to bed the night before, he'd gone over everything that would need to be done the following Tuesday- a long list, especially so early in the week. There were Let's Plays to record and videos to edit and videos to record and so on and so on. He went over everything he would need to do before leaving the house so he and Gavin could head off for work earlier than needed.

 

However, after he'd gone into Gavin's room, seen that he was still in bed despite the fact that they needed to leave in five minutes, and admittedly gotten a bit more mad than he probably should have, he realized he hadn't accounted for the Brit to get sick on today of all days, and just maybe was in slight denial of the fact. Watching Gavin stumble into the driveway, looking paler than Snow White and like he'd just seen wet bread, the guilt didn't take its time in filling Geoff's entire being.

 

He quickly slipped out of the car and over to the younger. "Gavin?" he questioned, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady the swaying, "Are you feeling okay?"

Gavin took a deep breath, as if he were trying to the best of his abilities to not vomit right then and there (which probably wasn't too far from the truth, now that Geoff could take a good look at him.). "M'fine. Tippy Top. C'mon, we've a busy day, don't we?" he mumbled. He went to go to the car, but Geoff held him firm where he was.

 

"Gav, I know that's not the truth. Be honest. Are you sick?"

 

A small, hesitated nod of the head was all Geoff needed to gently pick Gavin up and carry him into the house.

 

 

* * *

 

When Ryan heard the door open and shut next to him, he expected Ray or Michael or Caleb to walk in, ready to get down to business. Geoff had already called Jack to let him know that he and Gavin wouldn't be coming in today, so he figured that maybe someone was coming in to replace the two in a Let's Play or something.

 

In a way, he was right. Michael was the one that walked in the door.

 

Except this Michael wasn't the "Rage Quit" Jones he knew. Usually, he'd be grinning or worrying about Gavin or wondering about where Ray was or talking about a Let's Play, and he'd usually have a light in his eyes and a glow of contentment on his face to match the seemingly endless energy running through his limbs.

 

Today, it was apparent that that energy had its boundaries. The younger walked in with a pain-filled frown on his flushed face, and silently to add to the quickly growing worry in the pit of Ryan's stomach. He and Jack shared a quick glance at each other before continuing to study the only Lad at this time in the office.

 

Michael noticed this far quicker than Ryan had hoped.

 

"The fuck are you assholes staring at?" he grumbled.

 

Ryan was the first to find his voice after a long moment. "Michael," he questioned, "Are you feeling okay?"

 

The younger let out a sigh. "M'fine. Just a headache."

 

Bells started going off at that; there was a flu going around, if Ryan recalled correctly, and it usually started out with said brain pains...

 

Jack looked at Ryan with worry etched on his face, and the Mad King returned the look. "Are you sick, then, or...?"

 

"No, Jack, like I said, it's just a headache . Nothing to worry about. Calm the fuck down."

 

Ryan decided that he wasn't going to hear it.

 

Silently, the Gent stood up from the couch and leaned over Michael in his chair. The younger furrowed his brow in confusion (and maybe the slightest bit of pain).

 

"Ryan-"

 

Before he could say anything else, the older placed his wrist on Michael's forehead. The warmth that he felt didn't help to reduce the worry that still lived in the pit of his stomach.

 

Michael ripped the hand off of his forehead before another thought could enter the Gent's head. "The fuck are you doing, asshole?"

 

"I'm just checking to see if you have a fever!" He quickly stood up straight and lifted his hands. The glare he received was anything but friendly, and before another comment could be made, Michael was staring at his computer again. Ryan sighed in defeat and trudged back to his makeshift desk.

 

Jack kept glancing between the two tentatively before standing and grabbing his keys. "I'm, uh... I'm going to go check on Ray. He's never been this late before and I want to go see if he's alright..."

 

"Whatever, asshole," Michael growled. Ryan stayed silent.

 

"Okay then... Uh... See you guys." With that, Jack left the office like a cat that had just escaped a seven-year-old's birthday party.

 

Things were silent in the office for a few minutes. For one or two of them, Ryan pretended that everything was okay and that everyone except he and Michael had gone out last night and were just late because they were hung over. The idea helped Ryan get back to work and focus on the editing.

 

At one point, Michael left the office very hastily, which all but shattered the fantasy the Gent had created. After a sigh and a couple more minutes of work, the Lad very hesitantly stepped into the doorway of the office.

 

"...Hey, Ryan...?"

 

The older didn't look away from his computer screen. "Yeah, Michael?"

 

"I-" He sighed. "Sorry I got pissed earlier... I'm just... not exactly feeling well..." The last part came out as a quiet mumble. Ryan still didn't look at him.

 

"It's alright. Nothing to worry about. Sorry I forced my caring onto you. I'm just worried about you is all."

 

There were a few moments of silence. "...Ryan?"

 

The voice was so uncharacteristically quiet and shy that it was just begging Ryan to look up. So he did. His gaze was met with an even paler Michael staring at the ground in shame and gently caressing his abdomen.

 

"...Do you think you could drive me home?"

 

They were out the door in no time.

 

 

* * *

 

When Jack finally pushed the door open to Ray's apartment, after a realization that he had no key and a quick run to Geoff's to get said key, part of him was expecting the worst. He thought he might him in a pool of blood on the couch with gunshots through him, or post-seizure on the floor with a giant gash in his head, or even on the bottom of his shower after he'd slipped, or maybe even just gone, and the only trace of his absence being a ransom note.

 

The other part of him was trying to think of logical reasons as to why he hadn't shown up for work or called in. Maybe his alarm broke. Maybe he slept through his alarm. Maybe he forgot to set his alarm. Maybe his alarm was his phone and it had died throughout the night. Maybe he'd decided not to come and forgotten to call in. Maybe there was an emergency in the night. Maybe he'd tried out drinking and was too hungover to call.

 

It was a long stretch, Jack knew, but he decided he couldn't rule it out.

 

In the end, after a long search through the small apartment, the logical side was correct. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Ray curled up underneath the single blanket on his bed. 

Quietly, he snuck over to the side just to double check that he wasn't dead, and was pleasantly surprised. The only thing he noticed wrong, however, were the bright red cheeks and not-at-all-bright rest of his face...

 

Jack placed his wrist on Ray's head as softly as he could. The fears were confirmed. Ray was sick.

 

He put his hand on the blanketed shoulder and gently shook until the brown eyes in front of him opened. "Ray?" he questioned, his voice no louder than a whisper, "Are you feeling okay?"

 

Ray whimpered and buried his face in the blanket. Jack took that as a "no". "Could you tell me what's wrong?"

 

"M'sick..."

 

The Gent chuckled. "I can see that, bud. Could you give me a bit more detail?"

 

"Everythin' hurts..."

 

A gentle sigh was released before Jack courteously picked Ray up, bedding and all, and carried him out of his room and to the couch. Once he was sure the Lad was asleep, he pulled out his phone.

 

"Hey, Geoff, it's Jack... Listen, Ray caught the bug, too, so I guess he's going to have to stay home..... Yeah, no problem...... Alright. Hey, I was wondering, would it be an issue if I would stay behind and take care of him?...... No, no, it's nothing serious, I'm just sort of worried about him. I mean, if he was too sick to call in sick..... I can try to go back in later, if you'd rather..... No, no, it wouldn't be a problem..... Yeah, okay. Great! Thanks. See you tomorrow."


	2. Lies and Truths

It would be an lie to say that when Geoff picked Gavin up, he wasn't surprised in the slightest. In fact, Gavin could say that it was the last thing he had been expecting. He'd figured Geoff would yell at him for being so irresponsible and still make him go to work or just roll his eyes and leave without the Lad. It's why he had been so nervous he'd thrown up when he was about to leave; he was afraid of Geoff's anger or hostility. Instead, what he got was a very concerned and fatherly Geoff.

As soon as they were in the house, the Gent softly placed Gavin on the couch and placed his wrist on his forehead. "Looks like you've got a fever... Gav, why didn't you tell me you were sick? I wouldn't have made you get up," he pointed out.

The Lad shrunk into himself a little and looked at the floor. "Figured you'd be angry..."

Geoff cocked his head to the side a little. "Why would I be mad?"

Gavin shrugged, still looking away. When he felt Geoff's eyes still burning into him, he sighed. "Cuz it's such a busy day and I thought that if I didn't go, you guys would have to do all of the work without me, and you'd get upset about that."

The Brit finally looked up when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. Their eyes met; Geoff's were full of concern and... disappointment, maybe?

"Gavin, I want you to know that whatever happens, the health of one of you guys is much more important than the amount of work the rest of the crew has. Don't ever worry so much about being sick again, alright? It'll be fine."

He nodded, and Geoff smiled. The words swam in his head as he leaned back against the couch. He heard the older say something to him, but it didn't register. His stomach began to do flips and he realized that he should probably say something.

"Geoff?" He didn't wait for a reply. "I think I'm going to throw up."

It felt like no time had passed before he found his face in a trash can, vomit streaming out of his mouth, with a hand gently rubbing his back.

After the burning in his throat had ceased and the sound of his heart pounding in his ears dulled to a dreary thudding, Gavin quickly realized that the rubbing of the back was also gone, cluing him in to the fact that Geoff was nowhere to be found. He spent a few seconds looking around and was about to call for him when the Gent came strolling back into the room with a glass of water in his hand. Quietly, he passed it along and sat down next to the ill.

"Thanks...," Gavin mumbled, taking a couple of shaky sips.

"No problem," Geoff replied. "Do you want to try and maybe eat something? I dunno if your stomach is up for it, but I don't want you getting any worse..."

After a shrug and a quiet agreement, Geoff slipped back to the kitchen to fix something for the Lad.

* * *

 

It would be a lie to say that Michael wasn't surprised when Ryan didn't just drop him off and leave. You could even say that he was baffled as the Gent followed him into his apartment and shut the door behind him. When he caught the younger's questioning look, he returned it.

"...What?"

"Aren't you going back to the office?"

"Do you want me to?"

Michael shook his head. "No, no, that's not what I'm saying, I just..."

"Just what?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. Figured you had something more important to do than deal with a Lad with a headache."

Ryan laughed out loud and started towards Michael's kitchen. "Really? Come on, man. You and the rest of the crew are more important than some work that can be put off until tomorrow." He stopped, glancing at the cabinets. "Hey, where do you keep your medication and stuff?"

Michael made his way over and opened a seemingly random one, pulling a bottle out quickly. "Are you sure? I mean, I can easily take care of myself, and Geoff said yesterday that there's a fuckload of shit to be done..."

The older pulled the bottle from his hands. "I'm positive. Now go lay down or something before that headache of yours turns into a migraine."

The Lad opened his mouth to protest, but eventually shut it and slumped off to the couch. Ryan kept a watchful eye on him as he simultaneously pulled a glass out of another cupboard and filled it with water.

When he made his way to the couch, Michael had flipped on some My Little Pony and was watching it as if it were only a distraction- which, Ryan later realized, it probably was.

"Here," he said, handing a couple of capsules to the ill along with the water. "I'm going to give Geoff a call. Think you can handle yourself for a few minutes?"

"Of course I can, I'm not a fucking little kid."

Ryan smirked as he stalked off to make the call, oblivious to the fact that Michael's attention was no longer on the colorful ponies.

"Hey! It's Ryan..... Yeah, Michael caught a bug. It's nothing too drastic, not much to worry about, but I was kinda hoping it'd be alright if I stayed with him just in case it got worse....... Is everything okay?"

Michael cast a worried glance over to the Gent, who returned the look. It was a long while before he spoke again.

"...No, no, it's not a problem...... Hm. Must be going around then..... I know..... Alright, _dad_ , I will..... Well, send Gavin our best, I guess... Alright. Okay. See you." He barely had a chance to end the call before Michael had jumped up from the couch and nearly attached himself to the elder.

"Is everything alright? What happened? What's going on?"

Ryan pulled him off and dragged him back to the couch. "Everything's fine, Michael. Don't stress about it; you'll just make yourself worse."

"Well, if you'd just tell me what the fuck was going on-!"

The Gent held up his hand, and the Lad went silent. "It turns out that all of the Lads are sick today," he informed, "And that giant pause was because Gavin was throwing up and Geoff had to take care of him. Like I said, don't worry about it. Just try to rest, alright? Focus on your Rainbow Boom and Flutterby or whatever."

"Rainbow _Dash_ and Flutter _shy_ ," Michael grumbled before turning back to the screen. Ryan sighed and decided not to make a fuss over it, since the Lad was sick and all.

* * *

 

It would be a lie to say that Ray wasn't surprised when he woke up to find himself on the couch, his head feeling like it was full of concrete, and (biggest surprise) Jack sitting on an armchair with the TV on mute. He normally would have made some snarky comment, such as _what the hell happened last night?_ or _Jack, I understand that you worry over me, but come on..._ , but his mind wasn't functioning correctly, and he ended up just whispering a pitiful, "Jack?"

It was quiet, but enough to make the Gent's head snap in his direction. "Hey, Ray," he replied just as quietly. "How're you feeling?"

The younger ran a hand over his face. "Awful... How long've you been here for?"

Jack shrugged, getting up to make his way over to the couch. "Maybe an hour or so. I don't know. Do you remember me waking you up earlier?"

Ray started to sit up, but lay back down when the room began to swirl in front of him. "No. At least, I don't think I do..." He shut his eyes, trying to make the effect of sitting up go away. They almost shot back open when he felt a hand on his forehead.

"I don't think your fever has gone down any... Do you want to try to eat something, or are you okay for now?"

Ray opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling and thought about food momentarily, but cringed and shut his eyes again when his stomach flipped. "No thanks, I'm good for now... Goddamn, is this what it's like to have a hangover?" he groaned.

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. "You have a headache, too, then?" A simple nod from Ray, and Jack was heading towards his bathroom. "Where do you keep your ibuprofen and shit?"

"I don't."

The older nearly stopped in his tracks. "What do you mean, you don't? Do you seriously not own any medication whatsoever?"

"Nah. Why should I? I don't usually get sick like this."

Jack sighed. "Fucking moron... Alright, I guess I'll have to run and get you some..."

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Ray shot up and yelled, " _No!_ "

They kept eye contact for a moment until the younger coughed and looked towards the opposite wall. "I- I mean, uh, y-you don't have to do that; I can, uh, I can fight through the pain. I-I'm tough. I'm a fucking Puerto Rican."

He turned to grin at Jack and play it off as a joke, but it was lost in Jack's concerned gaze.

"...Aaaalright?"

Ray swallowed and lay himself back down. "Sorry," he mumbled. He wasn't quite sure if Jack had heard it or not, but it didn't really matter anyways, he supposed.

Except it sort of did, he realized as he felt the pang in his heart, and Jack _had_ in fact heard his apology. After Ray buried his face in the pillow on the couch, Jack gently padded over and started running his hands through the younger's hair.

"It's alright, Ray, don't worry about it. You're sick; it's alright to be vulnerable. And I get it that you don't want me to spend my money on getting something to help you, but you need to understand that you're worth more than a few dollars, okay?" The more he comforted the ill, the easier it was to realize just how terribly the poor boy was shivering. Jack was quick to see this and eager to take care of it.

"Do you want another blanket?"

It took a moment, but there was a quiet, "Y-Yes, please," and soon enough, there was a total of three blankets on top of the man.

The warmth now consuming Ray was very hypnotizing, he soon saw, and before he realized he was doing it, he was nodding off and drifting in and out of consciousness. He briefly heard Jack say something about running to the store, and the familiar panic, though this time dulled by drowsiness, filled his body, and he reached out and grabbed Jack's hand just before he was out of reach.

"Please don't go..."

Jack was very taken aback by the fearful and pitiful tone lacing the words he'd just said, and with a worried sigh, Jack's hands retook their position of gently dragging through the Lad's hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed! Thanks for reading! A lot of things in this and the previous and later chapters will be elaborated in later chapters. Hopefully that won't confuse you too terribly! :)


	3. Regrets

Geoff regretted his suggestion of food after the first time Gavin had thrown up after he'd eaten something. Now it was the third time, and the Gent certainly wasn't feeling any better about it. They had since moved to the bathroom, where the Lad was hunched over the toilet, trembling and sweating and dry heaving. Geoff hadn't stopped rubbing his back since the first vomit session began.

 

After a long while, Gavin finally leaned back and took a shaky breath. "I don't think there's anything left in me... But, can I not eat anything for a while? Would that be alright?"

 

Geoff continued making circles on the younger's back. "Yeah, that's fine. Sorry again, you know, for making you eat 'nd stuff."

 

Gavin sighed. "S'alright, Geoffrey. D'you wanna head back to the living room and play some video games or something?"

 

"Sure thing, dude. I need to call the office anyway, tell 'em we're not coming in today."

 

The Brit watched the older stand. "'We'? You're not going in?"

 

"Of course not," Geoff replied, holding out his hand for Gavin to grab. "You're too dumb to know how to take care of yourself, not to mention too sick to do so even if you did know. Someone's gotta do it, or else you'd be fucking dead."

 

Gavin smirked as he did as implied, letting his American father figure pull him up and lead him back to the living room.

 

As the Brit was going through the games for X Box, Geoff slipped into the next room over and dialed Jack's number.

 

"Hey, Jack, what's going on? ...Yeah, things are mostly okay here. Gavin's caught that bug that's been going around the office..... Yeah, I know. He's an idiot. I think the two of us are going to stay home for the day..... I know, I know, but Gavin's too sick to work, and it's kind of hard to record Minecraft Let's Plays without him..... Yeah. I don't think Ryan'd be too happy if Gav threw up all over the recording equipment....."

 

It was almost as if Geoff had cued it, with "it" being the sound of Gavin's dry heaving ringing through the halls.

 

Geoff froze, worry starting to pump through his veins. "Shit..." He jogged over to the next room, and let his stomach fall at the sight of the younger attempting to vomit into the trash can. "Uh, hold on a sec, Jack..." He stood behind the couch and reached over, letting his right hand retake the job on Gavin's back that it had been doing merely moments ago.

It felt like ages, but eventually, Gavin pushed the garbage can back on the floor, breathing deeply and reaching for the glass of water again. Geoff lifted the phone away from his mouth and asked, "You alright?"

 

The younger nodded silently, his eyes falling shut. Geoff sighed and returned to the call.

 

"Sorry about that..... You could hear that? Fucking hell..... Yeah, he's fine now, I think. Anyway, I should probably take care of the idiot. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

 

He ended the call and hopped over the back of the couch to sit next to the Lad. "Are you sure you're okay? Do you want any drugs or something?"

 

Gavin laughed silently and leaned against the Gent. "Nah, maybe later. Right now, I just want to play some GTA or something. Is that okay with you?"

 

If there was one thing Geoff noticed in the past hour, it was that a sick Gavin also happened to be a Gavin who needed permission in nearly everything he did.

 

"Yeah, that sounds good. Here, I'll go pop it in..."

 

They'd played it for a good forty-five minutes before there was a knock on the front door. The two on the couch glanced at each other, then, like clockwork, Gavin paused the game, and Geoff got up to answer. The last thing he'd been expecting was to see a certain fluffy beard in front of him, but sure enough...

 

"Hey, Geoff," Jack greeted with a nervous smile on his face.

 

"Uh, hey," he replied. "Is everything alright?"

 

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. "I think so? I'm not sure. Ray didn't come in to work or call in or anything, so I wanted to go see if he's alright, but I realized I don't have a key to his place... Do you think I could borrow yours for a bit?"

 

Geoff instantly felt the worry in his gut increase by at least fifty percent. "Yeah, yeah, sure, of course! Uh, here, come on in, I'll just go grab it. It's right upstairs."

 

Jack made sure to shut the door behind him as Geoff slipped down the hall. He heard a faint British accent questioning who was at the door, followed by a yell of "Beardo!" and a string of coughs shortly after that. Jack chuckled and made his way to the living room, seeing Gavin nearly hacking out a lung on the couch and Geoff bounding up the stairs.

 

"Fucking hell, Gavin, calm down," he laughed as he hit the younger on the back. Eventually, Gavin did as told, and just in time for Geoff to come leaping back down the stairs, key in hand.

 

"You okay, bud?" he asked as the Lad grabbed his water. After a breathless nod, Geoff turned to Jack and handed him the key. "That should be the one. Do me a favor and text me or something when you find out what's up with him, alright?"

 

Jack nodded. "Sure, no problem. I'll see you guys later, then. Feel better, Gavin." With that, he headed back out the door, leaving Plan G to themselves. Gavin immediately turned to look at Geoff.

 

"What's up with who? What's going on?"

 

Geoff plastered a smile on his face in attempt to make it look like he wasn't as worried as he seemed. "Ah, it's not a big deal. Ray just didn't show up to work. Asshole probably slept in or something. What about with you? What the hell was with all of that coughing?"

 

Gavin rolled his eyes and grabbed the controller; Geoff smiled at the accomplished goal and did the same.

 

 

* * *

 

Ryan was regretting allowing Michael to pick all of the shows after the first three episodes of My Little Pony had concluded. With each song one of the small horses had to sing, the Gent felt his self dignity falling down further and further. He felt like the colors on the screen would never come to an end, and even if they did, he'd never get the stupid songs out of his head...

 

However, it seemed his thoughts were incorrect, when after the third episode finished and the screen came up asking if they wanted to watch another episode, there was no movement coming from the Lad. Ryan looked over to him and saw his head lolling off to the side, his eyes half open under his glasses. Not quite knowing what to do, the Gent reached over and pushed against his shoulder.

 

"Michael... Michael, hey..."

 

The younger groaned. "What, what the hell do you want...?"

 

Ryan bit his lip. "Michael, do you want to go take a nap or something? You seem really tired, and I think some sleep could really help you fight this..."

 

He shook his head, sitting up and taking his glasses off to rub his face. "No. No. M'fucking fine, okay? M'fine."

 

The Gent sighed and went back to the chair. "Alright. Do you want to watch another episode of this, or do you want something else?"

 

He looked at the screen, reapplying his glasses. "Yeah, but not this episode." He quietly grabbed the remote and clicked around, ignoring Ryan's sigh and the fact that he stood.

 

"I'm going to step out onto the balcony for a bit. Is that alright?"

 

"Yeah, s'fine." Michael's eyes stayed glued to the screen. Ryan rolled his and stepped out onto the balcony.

 

In the silence, the Mad King could finally let his mind wander away from Michael and the ponies and onto other things. This freedom caused him to easily relax and sigh in contentment.

 

Odd thing was, however, that his mind didn't stray far at all from the boy just inside. It wasn't a romantic thing; he was still happily married and had kids, and he wasn't going to let a coworker change that. It was more out of worry for the Lad than anything. The way that Michael just refused to let him take care of him, or even take care of himself... It was just a pinpoint that caused Ryan's intestines to bunch up into a ball and coat themselves with glue. He just wished Michael would allow himself what he needed to get better.

 

Knowing that he wouldn't be getting much thinking done outside of worrying, Ryan turned and slipped back into the apartment. Maybe the ponies could provide something good for him after all.

 

The first thing that met his eyes once he was in was Michael. Except, this time, he wasn't sitting up and watching the two pegasi interact with each other; he was on his side, his glasses nearly fallen off his face, and a soft snoring coming from his mouth. Ryan smiled softly and padded over, lifting the Lad as gently as he could and carefully carrying him to his room. He pulled off his glasses and sweatshirt, pulled the blankets up to his chin, and quietly slipped out of the room, shutting off the lights in the process.

 

 

* * *

 

Jack was starting to regret his positioning on the floor; it had been a while since Ray had fallen asleep, and the Gent was still crouched next to the Puerto Rican and aching like crazy. He eventually decided to stand, stretch, and move back to the chair, watching the same channel that had been on before Ray had woken up. After a while, he heard some stirring from the couch, which was quickly followed by the Lad shooting up and hollering, "Jack?!"

 

The older was up and over in an instant. "Hey, hey, calm down, I'm right here," he replied. The panic on Ray's face dissolved within seconds (although the same did not happen with the worry in Jack's mind). "What's up? Do you need anything?"

 

The younger shook his head with a sigh. "N-No, fine, I just wasn't sure if you'd left or something..."

 

Jack watched Ray for a moment, looking for any signs of him getting any more sick; he found nothing aside from the mild fear still lingering in his eyes. If anything, he seemed to be looking  better . The redhead gently placed his wrist on the raven haired's forehead as he handed him his glasses and smiled at the result.

 

"Your fever's going down. Do you want to try and eat something now, or...?"

 

Ray's eyes stared at the blankets for a moment in deep thought before he finally nodded. "Yeah, sure, I'll try it."

 

Jack paused, waiting for an  I mean, YOLO, right?  that never came. "Uh... Alright... What-"

 

He cut himself off as Ray climbed out of the blankets and stood, swaying dangerously. Jack quickly grabbed him and held him steady.

 

"Sorry, sorry, just sort of lost my balance..."

 

The Gent chuckled and gently placed him back onto the cushions. "Hey, don't worry about it. I can make you something. It's not a big deal. Do you want soup or something?"

 

Ray hesitated before nodding; despite this striking Jack as slightly odd (and adding to the now decreasing worry), he smiled and slipped off to the kitchen, searching through some cupboards for anything to make it with.

 

Less than two minutes after his agreement, however, Ray suddenly starting taking extremely deep breaths, as if he had just been broken the news that his gamer score glitched and had been reset. Jack glanced over and raised an eyebrow.

 

"You alright?"

 

The Lad nodded, although it was clearly a lie. He shut his eyes and swallowed hard, slowly putting his hand into a fist and placing it in front of his mouth. The worry in Jack's stomach suddenly started to increase.

 

"Are you sure?"

 

After a pause, Ray shook his head. "I think-" He stood and started to run to the bathroom. "-I'm gonna have to skip the soup...!"

 

Jack sighed out an "Oh, no..." before the sound of retching leaked out of the bathroom and through the apartment. He followed to where the younger had disappeared and kneeled next to him, gently rubbing his back until the vomiting came to an end. Ray spit into the toilet and shuddered as he leaned against Jack and placed his head on his chest.

 

"M'sorry...," he mumbled.

 

Jack began to run one hand through Ray's damp hair and held him with the other, rubbing circles into his back with this thumb. "What for?"

 

"Gettin' sick..."

 

The Gent shook his head. "It's not your fault, Ray. You had no control over this. There's nothing to be sorry for."

 

He pushed himself further into his chest. "'Nd sorry for making you stay... I should be able to take care of myself... I won't be upset if you leave..." There was a voice crack on the last word; Jack knew it was most likely from the previous vomit session, but didn't quite want to take his chances that it was due to that and not tears.

 

"Nah. I want to make sure you're alright, Ray. I stayed because I want to. Hell, even if you told me to leave, I probably would have stayed. I don't want anything to happen to you. Who would make all the shitty jokes if you were gone?"

 

Jack felt Ray's quiet laugh against his chest before he heard it. "Guess you're right... I'm too important to be gone, am I right?"

 

"Exactly." He gently pushed the Lad off of his chest and looked at him. "And I think in order to stay, you'll need to be hydrated. How about a drink?"

 

Ray smirked. "Sorry, but I don't have any alcohol in this house." He laughed weakly at Jack's eye roll before the Gent helped him stand. "But I do have water, milk, juice and Gatorade. You can pick your not-poison."

 

Jack laughed as he guided Ray out of the bathroom. "Alright, and I'll pick yours." As Ray went to sit on the couch, Jack walked back to the kitchen and poured a glass of Gatorade for the Lad. When he turned to ask if that was alright with him, he saw the younger sitting with his head against the back of the couch, eyes shut. Jack smiled sympathetically and headed over with the glass.

 

"Still feeling pretty shitty?" he asked. Ray opened his eyes and looked at him with a sigh, taking the glass.

 

"Yeah, kinda. Thanks."

 

Jack quietly pulled a garbage can over and went back to his arm chair, picking up the remote. "Do you have a preference as to what we watch?"

 

The Lad took a drink and re-shut his eyes, shaking his head. "As long as it's quiet," he mumbled. Jack didn't press the button to un-mute the television.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading :)


	4. Sweat and Tears

It wasn't long before Gavin and Geoff's game of GTA was interrupted again by the same man who had come around before, although this time, it was via phone call. Gavin once again paused the game as Geoff stepped into the next room to answer.

"...Oh, hey, Jack. What's up?..... Oh, thank God. I mean, not that he's sick, but that he's alright. Thanks for telling me... Hey, so since there's already two of us sick, make sure you're taking care of yourself, too, okay?..... Is he really that sick?..... Oh, okay, I get what you're saying..... No, dude, you don't have to. I mean, I don't want to cause any more issues..... Alright, then, if you're sure.... M'kay. Bye."

He slipped back into the room after hanging up and sighed as he picked his controller back up. "Well, it looks like Ray's pretty sick, too."

Gavin swallowed hard. "Is he?"

"Yeah, Jack said it's the same thing you have. Must be going around or something."

The Brit took a deep breath, his stomach starting to churn again, though this time, he couldn't tell whether it was due to the illness or the nerves. "Oh."

"Yeah. So are you gonna unpause the damn game or not, dude?"

"O-Oh! Right. Sorry," he mumbled, doing as asked. Five minutes had barely passed when Geoff’s ringtone went off once more, and he slipped out as Gavin paused the game.

"...Oh, Ryan, don't tell me someone else is sick!..... Yeah, I mean, I guess, since Jack is staying behind with Ray's sick ass it wouldn't be a problem if..." He trailed off as he heard Gavin running down the hall, somewhere towards the bathroom. "Gavin?" he called out, but the only answer he got was the sound of violent dry heaving. He heard the other Gent asking if everything was okay, but he mumbled a "Hold on a minute..." and ran towards the sound.

When he pushed the half-shut door open, he was met with a trembling Brit grasping the toilet seat tight enough that his fingers were white and gasping for air between each heave. Geoff immediately set the phone on the counter and placed himself next to Gavin, rubbing his back as gently as he could.

"It's alright, Gav, you're okay. Breathe, Gavin, try to breath, alright? You're okay. You're fine. Just breathe. You're okay, Gavin."

He kept mumbling the words of reassurance until the Lad was panting and lifting his head, revealing a nice sheen of sweat and tears covering his face. Geoff grabbed a towel and gently wiped it off as Gavin curled up and leaned against the wall.

"Are you okay now?"

Gavin nodded.

"Do you want some water?"

Gavin nodded.

Geoff got him a glass (of which Gavin hardly sipped at, but still drank) before picking the phone up again and stepping into the hall, being sure to stay close in case Gavin needed him again.

"Sorry about that, Gavin was puking his guts out..... Yeah, hopefully Michael and Ray don't get this sick, or else it'll be hell..... Right, so you better take care of yourself, understand?.... I mean it! Wash your hands like crazy and all of that shit! I don't need anyone else getting sick and missing work, not to mention having to take care of your ass, too..... Alright. Good.... Thanks, and same goes to Michael.... See ya."

He was looking at his phone when he slipped back into the room. "So I guess Michael's sick, too... But what about-" He glanced up, stopping when he saw fresh tears of Gavin's face. "-You? Hey, what's wrong, buddy?"

Gavin bit his lip and shook his head. Geoff crouched down, concern starting to fill his body again.

"Seriously, Gav, are you hurting? Do you need to go to the hospital or something? I know you don't like it, but if you're..."

"I-It's not that," he stuttered through his trembling. "I'm n-not hurting any more than I s-should be. I s-swear."

"Then what is it?" Geoff coaxed, brushing his hand against Gavin's forehead as he pushed away the sweaty bangs (he noticed that the fever may have gone up just a bit since he'd last checked, but that was beside the point).

The Brit began to stare at the cup in his hands. "W-What if it's my fault?"

Geoff furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "What if what's your fault, bud?"

"Micool a-and Ray. What if-f they're sick b-because I p-passed it on to them, Geoff? I don't want to be the reason why they're hurting...!" His breathing picked up a bit, and tears started to form in his eyes again. Geoff was quick to calm him down by rubbing his hands through his hair.

"Shh, it's alright. It's not your fault. It wasn't your choice to be sick, was it? And it's not like you knew. Besides, it could have come from anyone. It's not your fault, buddy, I promise."

Gavin bit his lip and nodded, sniffing and coughing a bit. He took a very shaky sip of water before looking at Geoff and very quietly asking, "C-Could we go back to the l-lounge now?"

"Absolutely," Geoff replied, giving Gavin a reassuring smile. "Do you think you can make it?"

The Brit pressed his lips together. "I... I dunno..."

Without missing a beat, the Gent took the water out of Gavin's hands, set it on the counter, and lifted the Lad into his arms (with the Lad giving a weak squawk of surprise), carrying him back to the living room with ease. He gently placed the ill on the couch before heading back to grab the water with the intent of giving it back so the younger could keep himself hydrated- but by the time he returned, Gavin was curled up against the cushions, dead to the world in a well-earned sleep. Geoff smiled softly before grabbing a blanket, draping it over the trembling body, and retreating to the chair to watch the now muted television.

 

 

* * *

 

The silence of the apartment was a nice change for Ryan; since Michael was finally asleep and hopefully allowing Ryan to take care of him, the Gent could relax and let his mind wander, and this time, it strayed away from the ill Lad. He let himself think about his kids and his wife, how he'd managed to land such a wonderful job, how close he was with his coworkers and how they looked out for each other, and so on and so forth. He was carelessly sprawled out in the armchair he'd been before Michael had fallen asleep, and was almost asleep himself when he heard the blankets rustling in the younger's bedroom, soon followed by a cough. With a gentle sigh, Ryan got up and headed towards the sound.

"Michael?" He whispered, poking his head into the room. "You awake?"

Another cough, followed by a hum of agreement, was the only reply that Ryan received. The older stayed and watched him for a moment, just to make sure he was being truthful, and was turning away when Michael began to push off the covers and climb out of bed.

"Oh no you don't," the Mad King sighed, quickly stepping over and pushing Michael back into the confines of his blankets. "You need to rest, Michael. Just stay in bed for a bit longer, okay?"

"Ryan-" Michael sat up, clutching the duvet tightly.

"No buts. I don't want you to get any more sick than you already are."

"No, but I-"

"Michael," Ryan firmly stated.

The Lad bit his lip, voice cracking when he pointed out, "But I think I'm gonna throw up...!"

The Gent's eyes widened in realization as he leapt for the garbage can and held it out to Michael right as he began to retch. His tight grip left the covers for the garbage can, and Ryan let go to rub circles on the younger's back. There were a few moments where it was just that, and once those moments ended, Michael lowered the can and caught his breath. Ryan continued his motions, feeling slightly more guilty than before.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Michael nodded, using his hand to wipe his mouth. Ryan swallowed and looked at the Lad. "Look, I... I'm really sorry about that. I should've let you get up. I'm just being over protective. I'm sorry."

Michael shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. I get it; I need to rest. Don't worry about it. I appreciate the caring and all of that shit, I promise."

Ryan nodded in understanding. He looked at Michael then, and before he could start to say anything, he realized just how awful the Lad was looking; his face was a lot paler than it was before he went to sleep, not to mention he had a thin sheet of sweat covering his body. "Hey, do you mind if I check your temperature again? I just-"

"Yeah sure, man. S'fine."

After blinking in surprise at the easy allowance, the Gent placed his wrist on the Lad's forehead, frowning at the increase of warmth since earlier that morning. Ryan mumbled a "Hold on a moment," before slipping out and returning with a couple more pills and another glass of water.

"I guess what you've got is one of those things where you'll get worse before you get better, but just in case, take these and make sure you're drinking enough, alright?"

Michael nodded and did as instructed, letting out a small yawn as soon as he'd finished. "I think I'm gonna sleep for a while longer. S'that okay with you?"

Ryan shrugged. "Yeah, of course. You're the one that's sick, remember?"

The younger smiled and lay back down, pulling the blankets up to his chin and closing his eyes. Ryan was nearly out the door when he heard Michael call out for him.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For taking care of my ass, I mean."

The older smiled softly at the words. "It's my pleasure, Michael."

With that, he shut the door and returned to the living room, retaking to his position in the armchair and finally allowing himself a short nap.

 

* * *

Although Jack had kept to his word and kept the TV silent, the same could not be said about Ray's volume. The Gent sighed as the Lad launched himself off of the couch for the third time in the past hour to run to the bathroom and start violently throwing up. Jack reluctantly stood and followed, being sure to create as little noise as possible as Ray had said that noise caused a spike in his headache and he didn't want the Lad to feel any worse than he was already. When he heard the vomiting come to a close, he slipped into the room and sat next to him, gently starting to rub his back.

"You alright?" he whispered. Ray shut his eyes tightly, took off his glasses and curled up, laying down on the floor and shaking his head.

"No... My head is killing me," he mumbled. Jack sighed and thought for a moment.

“Remind me everything that’s wrong with you right now?”

The Puerto Rican swallowed thickly before answering. “Head hurts, stomach twisting, tired but hurting too much to sleep, aching like fuck…”

The Gent furrowed his brow in thought. “Does your head hurt worse when there’s light and sound?”

A weak nod, and Jack frowned.

“It sounds like you’ve got a migraine, rather than a headache.”

Ray squinted up at the elder. “Is there any way to get it to go away? Cause you know… That’d be fucking great…”

“I honestly don’t know of another way, other than to either sleep it off or get some medication, which you don’t have…” Jack paused, just catching Ray’s lower lip twitch before it disappeared under his arm as he covered his face. “Unless you can get some sleep, I think I’m going to have to run to the store to-”

Ray started shaking his head quicker than he had before. “No. No, I’ll try to sleep. It’ll be, uh, cheaper. Yeah. No need to spend your money on me, right? M’just a Puerto Rican…”

Jack sighed. “Alright, bud. Then you go lay on the couch; I’ll get you some water or something.”

By the time the red haired filled a glass and was bringing it back, Ray had wrapped himself up in the blankets and buried his face in the pillows. With a wince of sympathy, Jack set the glass down on the coffee table in front of the couch. He went back to his chair and waited for Ray to fall asleep and hopefully rid himself of his migraine.

Unfortunately for Ray, he knew he wasn’t going to get any rest with his head hurting like this. It felt like someone was taking a pickaxe to his temple, and when he heard anything or saw any light, it felt like the pickaxe had just been sharpened. The pain was making him so nauseous that he was almost afraid to breath for fear of throwing up again. He was swimming in pain so awfully that he was unsure of how much time had passed until he finally gave in and looked to the clock, seeing that he’d only been trying to sleep for about twenty minutes.

He let out a quiet groan and chewed on his lip as he buried his eyes deeper into the pillow. He just wanted it all to stop. He was done with the pain and the nausea and the aching. A whimper slipped out of his throat at the thought before he could stop it, and he heard Jack quietly getting out of his chair.

“Ray?” he whispered, “I’m going to go to the store.”

Momentarily forgetting about the pain, Ray’s eyes shot open and he looked at Jack. “N-No, it’s fine, I’ll be fine, please don’t go…”

Jack shook his head. “I’m sorry, but you look like you’re hurting so much. I just want you to be okay. I’ll only be about ten minutes, I promise.”

As the Gent walked towards the door, the Lad sat up and tried to not throw up with the added tightening in his stomach. “Jack, please, no, I’ll be fine, I swear, please don’t-”

The door shut. Ray swallowed to rid himself of the lump in his throat.

“...Don't leave me alone…” he added on in a whisper.

He was quiet for a few minutes, just sitting and staring at the door in hopes that Jack would suddenly return and say he was just joking and wasn’t going to leave him. With each second, the hope dwindled, being replaced by burning in his eyes, which was soon after replaced with hot wetness dripping down his cheeks. He furiously wiped at it, knowing it was stupid, stupid that he was so scared of being alone when he wasn’t feeling well, stupid that he was crying from this stupid fear, and stupid that he was being so clingy to a coworker, of all people.

He swallowed again and let out a sob before rolling over and curling into a tight ball, trying to ignore all of his emotions and focus on the pain.

 


	5. That One Chapter Where Everyone's Crying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lack of updates the past two weeks... We were dropping off my sister at college (A 12 hour drive away), and the we had a family reunion (with our large-ass family we've got going on), so I'm really sorry! But here's the chapter now! Thanks for sticking with it :)

When Gavin woke up, he was momentarily confused as to why he was on the Ramsey’s couch rather than in his bed. Then the memories of the day and the nausea and headache came rushing back, and he remembered. He let out a quiet groan, and within a heartbeat, Geoff was at his side.

“You awake, bud?”

Gavin nodded, sighing and pulling the blanket tighter around himself. He felt a hand touch his forehead, and soon after heard a release of air coming from the Gent’s mouth.

“Fever’s gone up… Do you want to sleep some more?”

The Lad shook his head and sat up, making sure the blanket was secure around his shoulders. “Let’s play some games instead, yeah? I’d rather play something.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to rest for a bit longer…?”

“I’m _sure_ , Geoffrey. Please, can we play something?”

Geoff watched the Brit hesitantly for a moment before sighing again and nodded. “Alright, fine.”

There was a beat where is was just the elder prepping the television and the younger trying to keep himself awake, but soon enough, the two were silently squabbling with each other with their controllers in hand. If he hadn’t have been so tired, Gavin would have actually enjoyed the peacefulness of silently playing video games with his pseudo father.

That peacefulness, however, came to an abrupt end when he saw something moving out of the corner of his eye.

When he looked over, he didn’t know what it was, he didn’t know where it came from, and he didn’t know how to describe it. All that he knew was that it was dangerous and he couldn’t let it get to him or Geoff. Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to protect them, so in his fevered state, he figured the best thing to do would be to scream, drop his controller, and try to get away from it while still staying on the couch.

The next few moments went by in a blur. He vaguely remembered Geoff frantically asking what was wrong, then trying to convince him that there was nothing there, and then trying to get off the couch to get something. Gavin vividly remembered clinging to Geoff and begging him not to get off of the couch lest the thing get him. He could clearly remember his voice cracking and his eyes watering as Geoff hurried out of the room, and he could certainly recall sobbing into his knees as he heard the Gent returning and crouching in front of him.

“Gavin?”

“Geoff…!”

“Gavin, I get it, you’re scared of whatever it is you’re seeing, okay? I just need to use this, alright? Just let me help you out, please…”

Gavin looked up, and through his blurry vision saw the glass stick in Geoff’s hand. In the back of his mind, he knew exactly what it was, and what Geoff wanted to do; it was only a thermometer. No harm could come from it. But the front of his mind wouldn’t listen, and it immediately thought that that thing had somehow possessed Geoff and was now trying to kill Gavin.

So he screamed and shook his head, curling in on himself further.

“Gavin, Gavin, please! I just want to check your temperature! Calm down!” Geoff yelled over the screams. He tried to grab onto the younger to hold him steady, but he kept shaking the hand away. Finally, Geoff got up and pinned Gavin to the couch, shoving the device in his mouth and forcing it shut. Through the muffled shouts, the older watched the mercury rise, to his concern.

When he let Gavin up and pulled the thermometer away, the first thing the younger did was retch towards the garbage can next to him. After the dry heaves had finishes, Gavin whined brokenly and curled in upon himself. Geoff could practically feel his heartstrings pull at the sight, but he knew well enough that it was only because of the fever that he was acting like this, and if he wanted to help, he needed to bring it down.

Gavin wasn’t quite sure what was happening anymore. He recognized the fact that his thoughts previously about Geoff trying to hurt him were wrong, and that he would never do such a thing, but his mind just wouldn’t wrap around it, no matter how true it was. Funny how often it was doing that today. Although, he still didn’t remember why it was that he’d curled into himself again like this. Maybe it was the cramps he was battling? Or maybe he was still a little scared about Geoff doing what he’d done earlier? Maybe he’d done something that Gavin couldn’t remember now.

All thoughts were pushed aside when he heard footsteps coming into the room, indicating that there would be another person in the house, as he hadn’t heard Geoff leaving. He tensed, hearing soft words that refused to register and feeling something very, very cool being placed on his forehead. Within moments, exhaustion caught up to the Lad, and he was asleep once more.

It was very easy to say that Geoff was concerned as dicks after that little situation he’d had to deal with. Watching Gavin freak out, just to fall asleep moments after he’d given him some ice (which was now rapidly melting due to the head radiating off of the Brit) was just enough to set his fatherly instincts into overdrive. As he kept a watchful eye over the Lad to make sure he wouldn’t die in his sleep, he began to wish there was someone else here to help him make a decision on whether or not to take Gavin to the hospital.

He certainly didn’t want to do it; he knew how much Gavin hated everything about the damned place, and Geoff himself hated it almost as much. But he also knew that this fever was starting to get out of control, and if it got any worse, Gavin could definitely suffer from some brain damage. Geoff shivered at the thought.

He looked at the clock. _I’ll give it just a bit longer_ , he thought, _and if it doesn’t get better… I’ll take him_.

Quietly, he went back to his chair and pulled out his phone, shooting a quick text to the other Gents about the situation and curling into himself as he let himself worry.

 

* * *

 

Ryan had been awake for a short while when Michael came out of his room to sit himself heavily on the couch. The Mad King gave him a soft look, but it became one of concern when he saw the garbage can still being gripped tightly in the Lad’s hands. He quietly got up and placed himself next to the ill.

“You feeling any better?”

A small sigh released itself from Michael as he rubbed his face. “Not really, no.”

Ryan smiled sympathetically and ran his hand over the younger’s back. “You’ll be okay,” he hummed. “I’m gonna make sure of that.”

Without even really thinking, the Lad leaned into the Gent’s side, shutting his eyes and letting himself believe that what Ryan had just said was true, even if it felt like it was a bigger lie than saying the sun didn’t exist. With the mix of his head swimming and his throat burning and abdomen twisting, in a way, he wanted to just curl up and cry for hours about it all. But he knew just how stupid that’d be; it was just a little bug, after all. Nothing to sob over. He placed his head on Ryan’s shoulder and sighed.

“I hate being sick,” he mumbled.

“I know,” Ryan whispered back. “But you’ll be alright in time.”

They stayed like that for a moment; just a moment of Michael letting Ryan see his vulnerability, and Ryan accepting the notion and caring for it. Thankfully, the moment was not ruined by the nausea getting the best of Mogar, but instead him sitting up slowly and looking at the older.

“Wanna play some X-Box?”

Ryan chuckled and nodded. “Sure. What do you want to play?”

Michael smiled and got up slowly to look at his games as Ryan felt his pocketed phone vibrating. Keeping an eye on the Lad to make sure he didn’t pass out while he was looking away, the Gent opened the text from Geoff and read it through quickly.

_“Thinking about taking Gav to the hospital. He’s in pretty bad shape. I’m giving it an hour before making any decisions. How’re Michael and Ray doing?”_

Ryan tried not to let his concern seep through his casual facade as he subtly bit his lip. Gavin in the _hospital_? It didn’t sound like a good mix, but when was it for anyone? He glanced at Michael as the boy sorted through the thin boxes. Was he going to get that sick, too?

_Only time will tell_ , he thought to himself as he typed out his reply.

_“Michael just started throwing up a little bit ago. I haven’t checked his fever in a while. Other than that, he’s been fine. Hope everything’s ok with X-Ray and Vav.”_

The next thing he knew, Michael was crawling back onto the couch and handing Ryan a controller. “Let’s play Minecraft. We can build a world together, and it’ll be doing something calm enough that I won’t be puking my guts out every ten seconds.”

The Mad King nodded, but set the controller to the side. “Okay, but first, let me check your fever.”

The Lad sighed. “Again? You just checked it, like, an hour ago…”

“Yeah, again. It could’ve changed. Temperatures do that, you know.” Without even waiting for a reply, he reached up and placed the back of his hand on the younger’s forehead, ignoring the second sigh he got in return. After a moment to judge the warmth, he hummed contently and pulled away to grab the controller.

“It’s gotten better,” he informed, “So there’s a plus.”

Michael smiled a little. “Well… Good, I guess.”

They played quietly for a while; together, they started a world called “Crazy Mad”, and found themselves in a Jungle Biome. They’d each built a house and were starting on the inside when Michael suddenly went silent before retching into the garbage can. After recovering from the initial shock of the change of pace, Ryan reached over and rubbed small circles on the Lad’s back.

“You’re alright, Michael,” he hummed. “You’ll be fine.”

“This _blows_ ,” the younger whimpered between heaves.

Ryan didn’t have a reply for that one.

After a couple of moments full of the sound of vomiting, the elder caught a shine coming off of Michael’s face. He didn’t think much of it, assuming it was sweat. It only crossed his mind that it was something else when the vomiting had come to a close and the panting from the ill sounded a little… wrong. Ryan raised an eyebrow and looked closer at Michael.

“Are you… crying?”

The younger sniffled and shook his head. “N-No,” he retorted, voice cracking.

Worry immediately overcame the Gent and he adjusted himself to get near him. “What’s wrong? Michael, what’s going on? What hurts?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he choked out, “Just so damn _frustrated_ with all of this shit!”

Ryan let himself a sigh of relief before he wrapped his arms around the smaller and pulled him close. “It’s okay, Michael. You’ll be alright.”

The soft spoken words accompanied the rough shivers until the moment passed, leaving the two in a friendly, comforting embrace that would last up to the moment that Michael pulled away and wiped his eyes stray of tears.

“D-Don’t you fucking tell _anyone_ at the office about that, okay?”

Ryan chuckled quietly and nodded, leaning back into the couch. “Alright. I get it.”

With a swallow and a deep breath, the Lad picked up his controller. “Let’s just play fucking Minecraft now.”

The Gent followed suit, and the sounds of the game filled the room until the lights in the sky began to dim.

 

* * *

 

Jack was just stepping out of the store, various medications in a bag in his hand, when his phone chimed with the custom tone he’d set for Geoff. With a small sigh, he stepped off to the side of the wave of people on the sidewalk and pulled it out, reading over the text and feeling his stomach drop. A single thought crossed his mind before he took off towards the apartment complex without even bothering to reply to the text.

_Ray_.

His footsteps quickened with each one, and he didn’t so much as pause to step out of the way for someone until he was stepping through the door of his coworker’s home. He called out for him, slipping into the room he’d previously left him in. Immediately, he stopped when he caught sight of the younger.

The Peurto Rican, in the time Jack had been gone, had pushed the blankets to the end of the couch and sat up. His knees were currently up to his chest, and his arms wrapped around those. He’d tucked his face into the gap his arms and legs had left; he was very visibly shaking, and very audibly sobbing. Jack saw this quickly, and was careful in his next few steps.

“Ray?” he softly said.

The younger’s head shot up as soon as he heard the call; sure enough, tear tracks were still being created as they slipped down his cheeks, but he quickly tried to wipe them away. He put his legs down and plastered a smile on his face as he looked at Jack and shakily replied, “O-Oh, hey, what’s going on, J-Jack?”

Jack decided he wasn’t going to roll with it. He quietly walked over to the couch and sat down next to the fevered, turning himself to look him in the eye. “Ray, what’s going on with _you_?” he hummed, keeping his voice as tame and gentle as he could. “What’s wrong?”

This, apparently, was just enough to push Ray over the edge once more, and within a moment, Jack had taken hold of him and held him amiably as he trembled and wept for reasons unknown to the Gent.

“Ray,” he tried, “ _Ray_ …”

The Lad wouldn’t respond, leaving the worry in Jack’s gut to grow even more. Thinking back to the text from Geoff, and since he couldn’t get to Ray’s forehead on account of it was currently buried in Jack’s shoulder, he placed the back of his hand on the younger’s cheek. The worry didn’t decrease.

“Ray, will you just let me check your fever?” he sighed.

Without any warning whatsoever, the Lad pulled away and attempted to rub his eyes free of tears again. “Sorry, sorry, yeah, I-I’m sorry…!”

Jack, knowing enough to not show his surprise at the sudden turn, just smiled kindly at him and placed his wrist on his forehead. He could immediately feel the rise in temperature, which cause alarms throughout his body to go off. Even when he was pulling his arm back, his mind was racing for ideas of how to bring it down to at least a manageable degree. There were only three in his mind that he knew, if they worked, would be suitable.

Gently, he asked, “Do you think you’d be able to hold down anything? Like, pills or something?”

He figured that with the way the other winced that his stomach was telling him a hard no. The headshake only confirmed it.

Jack sighed. He didn’t want to wait it out, on account that they’d been waiting for hours for it to break. That just left…

He dropped his head. “I can’t _believe_ I’m going to have to do this…”

“D-Do what…?”

The Gent looked at the younger; knowing fully that Ray probably wouldn’t agree to the idea unless they were just about to do it, he tenderly reached over and pulled the smaller into his arms before carrying him to the bathroom and carefully setting him on his feet. Once he was sure Ray was balanced, he turned around and shut the drain in the bathtub.

“This is going to be _super_ awkward,” Jack informed, “but it’ll help, I promise. Can you, uh…” He sighed, mumbling another “I can’t believe we’re doing this” and continuing, “Can you get into just your boxers? I mean, I don’t want your clothes to get wet, but no offense, I do _not_ want to see your dick, so I mean…”

“U-Uh, yeah, I, I mean, I guess…”

“Great,” he hummed. He made sure to keep his back turned, and as the younger began to quietly strip himself, the older turned the water on, confirming that it was cold before letting it fill the tub.

A few minutes later, Ray was awkwardly curled up in the water, and Jack was just as uncomfortably sitting next to it. The both were avoiding eye contact in every way possible.

The Gent eventually coughed uneasily and glanced at the Lad. “I, uh, I got you some medication. Like, uh, ibuprofen and Excedrin and cold medicine and stuff.”

Ray gave him a weak smile. “Yeah, uh, okay. Thanks.”

Jack nodded. “Will you be okay on your own for a couple of minutes? You won’t pass out or drown or anything?”

“Y-Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he replied, a small hint of curiosity in his voice. Jack hummed again and stood, leaving the room and returning a few seconds later with the bag from the store in hand. He carefully began to place each item in one of the drawers under the sink. Ray unintentionally watched each movement intently until Jack was finished. Once he realized what he was doing, he shook his head and stared into the water, slowly realizing the full extent of what this fever was doing to him. He knew he was spacing out, and he felt like he was swaying (though he knew he wasn’t moving). The lights and everything were causing his head to hurt even worse; his body was trembling with the mix of cold water and chills. He shut his eyes and leaned sideways against the wall, hoping that it would all be over soon.

When Jack turned back to Ray, he caught sight of the Lad closing his eyes and putting his weight against the wall. With a small, sympathetic smile, he sat next to the tub again, reaching out and rubbing the younger’s shoulder.

“You’ll be alright, Ray.”

The Puerto Rican sighed quietly. “I know.”

The moment of silence was ruined when Jack’s phone went off again.

_“Jack? How’s Ray?”_

The Gent nearly slapped himself, realizing that he’d never replied to Geoff’s text from earlier. With a chuckle, he typed out his reply and sent it out.

_“His fever’s up, but we’re working on getting that down. He should be okay soon.”_


	6. The Road to Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back, bitches!!
> 
> (Well... the story is... I've been back for a while... ANYWHO LLLLLLET'S READ)

Geoff could honestly say that it had been the longest fucking hour of his life when he was waiting to see if Gavin would be alright. He had to change the bag of ice four times before his forehead was cool enough to not melt it completely within ten minutes. Finally, once it was cool enough to keep the ice as a solid, he let out a sigh of relief and sat himself on the floor, waiting for the Brit to wake up.

Six minutes before the hour was up, the Gent heard some stirring and a moan. He quickly turned to see Gavin’s eyes fluttering open.

“Gavin? You awake, buddy?”

The Brit groaned and rubbed his face. “Yeah... the bloody hell happened? I feel like total crap...”

Geoff let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and ran his fingers through Gavin's (still very damp) hair. “Your fever went up. You were hallucinating and all kinds of crazy shit. It was fucking scary as dicks, dude. I almost had to take you to the hospital.”

The Lad sat up slowly, cringing the entire way. “Oh, god, I must've been really sick... I ache like hell...”

“Well, you are still a little under,” the Gent pointed out. “I wouldn't push yourself too much if I were you.”

Gavin nodded and shifted over, grabbing a controller and tapping the spot next to him. “D'you wanna play some Minecraft or something, then?”

Geoff smiled a bit and did as asked, picking up the other controller in the process. “Sure, but no drunk mobs this time.”

Before starting up the Xbox, the boss sent a text to the others, explaining that Gavin was alright for the time being. As soon as that was done, he loaded up the world to continue the build they'd been behind on. Not even ten minutes had passed before they stopped at the sound coming from Gavin's stomach. Geoff laughed quietly and got up, heading for the kitchen.

“Think you're ready to handle some food, idiot?”

He didn't even wait for a reply to go reheat what had previously caused the Lad to throw up. When he came back, he handed Gavin a bowl of soup and switched the television to the DVD player. As the Brit slowly took a couple of swallows, the Gent crouched in front of the disc collection.

“Any specific movie you would want to watch?” he asked.

Gavin paused to remember what was available. “What about _Snow White and the Huntsman_?”

Geoff snorted. “You only want to watch that because you helped make it.”

The Lad squawked in disapproval. “Geoff...!”

“I'm just kidding, dumbass. Calm your dick.”

Within moments, the two were sat on the couch as the beginning credits played. Gavin, now having finished his soup, leaned forward to place the bowl on the coffee table before sitting back and leaning gently against Geoff's shoulder.

“Thanks, by the way.”

The one with the mustache turned to give him a quizzical look. “For what?”

“Taking care of me,” he hummed. “And putting up with me for so long.”

Geoff smiled and put his arm around the younger. “Don't worry about it, kiss ass.”

Gavin went quiet after that, and it took the older a few minutes to realize that the other's breathing had evened out. Once he saw this, he gently picked up the sleeping Lad and carried him back to where the ill's morning had begun. The lights shut off, the door quietly shut, and Geoff headed back into the house.

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Ryan, you _fuck_!”

Maniacal laughter quickly followed the screaming as the Lad growled in frustration. He angrily clicked the _Continue_ on the kill screen and started off a quest to find and destroy the Mad King. “You're a fucking asshole, Ryan.”

“Hey, it was an accident!” the Gent laughed.

“Oh, yeah, chasing me with a fucking iron sword was totally an accident!” Michael yelled. “My mistake!”

Ryan turned his character just in time to see the bear come running towards him. After ten seconds of frustrated grunting and muffled laughter, the younger was throwing his controller onto the couch and getting up.

“Fuck this! I'm fucking done!”

The Gent laughed and set his controller down, looking at the clock and standing up. “You think your stomach'll be okay if you eat something?”

With a sigh, Michael flopped onto the couch. “I don't know. If you wanted to make something, then go right ahead. I won't stop you.”

“Okay. You want some soup, then?” Ryan asked.

The Lad nodded, and the Gent went to the kitchen area to rummage through the pantry.

Michael had been relaxing on the couch for about five minutes when a vibrating from nearby caused him to look over and sit up. He saw Ryan's phone lit up on the side table and lay back down.

“Hey Ry, you got a text.”

The older looked up from the cooking soup and glanced at the table. “Who from?”

The younger sat up again and grabbed the phone. “Geoff. Want me to read it for you?”

Ryan hesitated; he hadn't told Michael about the previous message about the other Lad, and it had been just over an hour since the first text. However, he figured that Michael would eventually figure it out anyway, so he nodded regardless.

“ _'Gav's fever went down. Not taking him to the hospital. Updates?'_ ” The Lad quickly looked at the Gent. “Gavin almost had to go the hospital?”

“He was in pretty bad shape,” Ryan explained. “Geoff gave it an hour before he was going to decide. I don't think you'll get that sick, so there's nothing for you to worry about.” Quickly, he gave Michael a reassuring smile and looked back at the soup. “Can you tell Geoff that you're fever's pretty low and we're trying food?”

There was a long pause as Michael did as told. Once he set the phone down, he walked over to the opposite side of the counter to face Ryan. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? About Gavin, I mean.”

The Gent shrugged, keeping his focus on the soup. “I didn’t want to stress you out. I was afraid you’d get worse.”

The Lad nodded and sighed. “Okay. I get it.”

They fell quiet, and it lasted until they were sitting at the table, both consuming the soup that had just been created. Michael started up a conversation about the next season of RvB, which Ryan happily joined in on.

The Gent’s main focus, of course, was the conversation at hand, but in the back of his mind, he kept the Lad’s appearance in check. The color was thankfully coming back to the freckled face, and the sheet of sweat seemed to have disappeared completely at this point. There was no more glassiness to his eyes; he was speaking much more energetically than he had been a few hours ago. Ryan smiled at this improvement and returned his thoughts to RvB, where they would stay for the next couple of hours as the conversation dragged on.

 

* * *

 

 

The cold water splashed off of the floor and onto Jack’s leg, causing the man to recoil a bit before refocusing on helping Ray climb out. As soon as he was stood on the water mat, Jack grabbed a towel and tossed it to the Lad, letting him wrap himself up. He sighed as he watched him crouch down to get his entire body in the fabric.

“Sorry, Ray,” he laughed nervously. “I guess I could’ve put that in the dryer to warm it up…”

“I-It’s okay,” the younger replied through shivers. “It’s f-fine.”

Jack gave Ray a gentle smile before scurrying off to find some warm clothes for the ill. The Lad stayed in his position as he waited; in the short time between when the Gent left and returned, he felt a stinging guilt rip through his chest. He let out a sigh just as the footsteps returned.

Once he handed the younger the clothes, he stepped out of the room, keeping close by just to be safe. Ray came out moments later, clad in sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and the fluffiest socks Jack had been able to find.

When Ray stepped out of the bathroom, the first thing he saw was Jack stepping in seconds later, returning soon after with his hand clasped shut. The Lad watched curiously as the Gent walked over and offered his hand out- revealing two recently-bought, white pills. He thanked the older and gently took them, downing them as quickly and carefully as he could, with the help of the glass of water that had been on the table.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something while we wait for those to kick in?” Jack asked softly, standing near the couch.

Ray pondered the question for a moment, and before he gave an answer, he leaned over the arm rest to look through his shelf of DVDs and video games. After a beat of silence, he pulled a case out and held it out to the older.

“This one’s a good one,” he commented. Jack took it, read the title, and chuckled before putting it into the X-Box.

“Good ol’ Studio Ghibli,” he laughed.

Ray smiled, wincing a bit at the sound, and slipped under the blankets once more. When Jack moved to go back to his chair, the younger sat up and lifted the edge of the covers. “Do you want some of this blanket?”

The ginger laughed, but sat down next to the dark haired anyway. The movie started up soon, and they watched in a comfortable, recovering silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left! (Fingers crossed that it won't take me six months to write that, too...!)
> 
> And thank you guys for keeping up with this, amongst my long-ass hiatuses on it and stuff. I should be the one giving you kudos!! Love you all! <3


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